Kirsten's New Perspective
by FallRose
Summary: Kirsten gets a new perspective on life and love
1. Chapter 1

1861

Sixteen-year old Kirsten Larson walked briskly through the tall, dewy grass on her way to school; today was her first day as being a teacher—she would not be late! As she walked she tried to suppress the fears that kept slipping in between the sheets of her thoughts. 'What if they do not respect me?' 'What if I have to punish one of the bigger boys?' no, she could not let these thoughts consume her. The butterflies in her stomach gathered strength. She shook her golden head, trying to shake these thoughts out of the corners of her mind. "I can do this. I can do this." She began whispering to herself in pace with her step, "I can do this."

Approaching the log schoolhouse she let herself into to the building, where, just a few months ago, she was the student. The wooden slabs groaned quietly as Kirsten walked to the front of the abandoned room. She turned slowly to view the rows of split-log benches; for years she had looked forward at one person, now taking in the new perspective, she would be looking out at seventeen young faces, some of whom where her schoolmates just a few short months ago. She breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar smell of burnt wood and chalk dust. Closing her eyes and making two fists she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. "I can do this" she said to herself with determination.

As she began the tasks of preparing for the first day of school she hummed a lullaby her mother used to coo to her in the cradle. She got water from the well, swept away months' worth of dust from the floor, washed the chalkboard, and placed a slate and a primer on every seat. Once done she carefully held a piece of fresh chalk in her hand, balanced it for a moment before writing her name on the chalkboard: _Miss Larson_. Smiling as she looked at her graceful script, Kirsten gave herself a pep talk: "I have worked hard for this. I will be a good teacher." She smiled at the letters, and with that, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of children approaching the school. Turning to greet them, Kirsten smiled to see that the first to arrive were her siblings: Peter, Britta, and five-year-old Hans—excited for his first day of school as well.

"Good morning _Miss Larson,"_ Peter said with a devilish grin.

"Good morning Peter." Kirsten smiled back at her tall, lanky brother, "Do you mind ringing the bell and letting everyone know the school day has begun?"

"Mig!" Hans cried.

Kirsten knelt down and looking straight into Hans' crystal blue eyes so as to grab full attention, "No, Hans. We are in school, you must speak English now." Kirsten remembered how difficult she found learning English to be and the embarrassment she had felt about not knowing the language. "Say 'me too.' In school we must speak English."

"Me too." Hans parroted solemnly and went to watch Peter ring the bell. From her seat Britta smiled knowingly at her brother and sister; she had started school the year before and sill found it difficult to separate Swedish from English.

The students filed in, chattering away. With the sight of all these strangers, Hans clung to his brother's legs.

"Welcome, welcome," Kirsten greeted, and the chattering died away. Kirsten gained confidence in the respect her students were displaying. "I am your teacher, Miss Larson. Let us start the day off by organizing our seats. Could everyone line up in the back of the room?" the class rose and walked quietly to the back of the room.

"Good. Could everyone who does not know how to read or write come sit in the first row on the right?" Kirsten ushered the younger children, and a few new older ones as well, to the front of the room and with that Kirsten began to organize her class. Once everyone was seated she went through the mundane chores of the day. Roll call, introductions, and level placement took a good portion of the morning. Many of the students had been her classmates in the last school season with whom she ate lunch with and played games in the yard with. Now these same school friends were treating her with respect deserving of an educator; Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief.

The day passed quickly and before she knew it, her first day as a teacher drew to a close.

"Good job Kirsten! Papa and mama will be proud to hear of your first day." Britta complemented joyfully, "I am glad you are my teacher."

"Me too!" Hans said triumphantly, proud of his English capabilities.

"Yes, fine job. Now let us go home." Peter concluded, grabbing Kirsten's books and placing them atop his own, and with that the Larson siblings walked home to their farm.

Sitting around the large pine dinner table, Mama could not stop beaming with pride at her oldest daughter's accomplishments, "Just a few years ago not a word of English—and now teaching in an American school!'

Papa was glad that she was 'giving back to her community' and helping students just like Miss Winston had done for her. "It is a fine thing you are doing, daughter. I am proud of you."

That night Kirsten fell asleep smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

The first few weeks of school flew by. Students were frequently in and out of the classroom, missing school to help on their farms. Then the last days of the fall harvest came and many students were absent because they had to help their families with the house work before the frost. In this time, when there were so few students in the room, Kirsten took the opportunity to work more-one-on-one with the children. She loved how fast the younger ones learned and how they hung on to her every word. They found learning to be fun, unlike many of the older children who saw it as work. However, after the tenth day Kirsten began to miss having the older students in the musty cabin. She missed their help with the morning chores and the complexity of their subjects and the challenge they presented her with.

***

The mornings began to hold a crisp bite to them, telling that a Minnesota winter was on its way. The older children were still out so Kirsten got to the schoolhouse early to gather firewood and start a welcoming fire in the Franklin stove for her little pupils on top of her normal morning routine. Walking to the woodpile some of the fathers of her students supplied and stacked, Kirsten was shocked to see a big brown cow loose knocking over her woodpile.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Kirsten called angrily, waving her arms. The cow turned his head at the commotion, but continued to munch on a piece of grass. "gå!!" She cried in frustration, throwing her hands up, the children would soon be at the schoolhouse. Grabbing the rope around the cow's neck, Kirsten scanned the area for the closest farmhouse and started walking toward a newly constructed log cabin.

She marched with determination, pulling the beast that had disrupted her morning routine along the way. By the time she reached the cabin, her face was red and strands of her golden hair were falling out of her braided crown. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and knocked, no more like pounded, on the door.

"Is this your cow?" Kirsten demanded as soon as the occupant opened the door. The man stared blankly at her and blinked twice.

"Is this your cow?" Kirsten demanded again and then muttered to herself her frustration in Swedish.

"Ja it is my cow," the man replied in Swedish. Now it was Kirsten's turn to stare blankly "He understands Swedish! Oh no!" She thought in embarrassment.

"My cow?" He said, taking the rope from Kirsten's hands. Kirsten took a good look at the man she had just harassed so early in the morning. He was tall, slightly tanned, built and with beautiful dirty blond hair and deep blue eyes. His stature reminded her of her older brother Lars who had recently moved out of the house with his new bride. "Where did you find her?"

"In the woodpile at the schoolhouse." Kirsten replied.

"I am sorry," he stared at her, and then turning to his cow, "bad Bjorn."

"You named your cow bear?" Kirsten asked in surprise.

"Yes, she has a habit of getting into things she shouldn't—like a baby bear. Did my animal cause any damage?"

Kirsten's eyes widened in surprise at the question and then shaking her head, her frustration near nonexistent, "Nothing the children cannot fix, she just knocked over some wood."

"No, it is my animal, I take responsibility. Do not have your students fix Bjorn's mess. I will be by after school hours to fix it." He smiled at her.

School! She must get back before all the students arrive! "I must go. I will see you at four then!" Kirsten concluded and started to run off.

"Svein!" Kirsten stopped and turned her expression one of confusion. "My name is Svein!" He grinned at her.

Smiling back as color rose to her cheeks, she replied, "Kirsten. Kirsten Larson," and continued her jog back to the schoolhouse.


	3. Chapter 3

To Kirsten the day seemed to drag on. Why was she acting so silly? Svein was probably married and just being helpful; she was acting like a goose, Kirsten kept telling herself. He did nothing to encourage her to acquire such an immediate crush. But still, the hours droned on: their quiet march seemed endless. Finally, it was four and the children gathered their things to leave.

"Shall we wait for you?" Britta asked after the last student had left as Peter helped button up her coat.

"No, Peter will take you and Hans home, I have some things I need to finish up here." Kirsten replied from her desk; keeping her head down so that Britta could not see the look on her face.

"Do you mean the wood pile?" Peter inquired, "Because I can help you with that."

"No!" Kirsten replied a little too quickly looking up, "No," she said again, this time more slowly, "You go home and help Papa. He was good enough to let you come to school in the afternoon; you should hurry home and see if he needs help."

"Do not stay too late," Britta cautioned as Peter ushered her and Hans out the door, "Mama will worry if you walk home alone in the dark."

"I will take care," Kirsten smiled at her sister meekly and waved them off.

Soon after she had finished sweeping out the room Svein's tall frame blocked the sun streaming in from the door. Kirsten noticed his shadow on the floor instantly and smiled widely. She turned the corners back down to a firm line before looking up, "Well you are finally here to repair the damage your cow has done." She stated, placing her fists firmly on her hips and then led the way out to the damaged pile.

Svein got to work immediately, stacking the wood in silence as Kirsten awkwardly watched. Finally she broke the silence, "Did you just arrive here from Sweden?" scuffing her right toe into the dirt as she did as a child when anxious.

"I arrived in America two months ago from Aker and then I travelled out here."

"Did you come here to be with family?"

"No, I am alone. I am hoping my brothers will soon follow. I have two older brothers and two younger: no sisters. My mama always wanted a girl but kept getting boys!" he laughed, gaining ease in the conversation.

"How long have you been here? Your English is good, no?" Svein questioned.

"My family came over in 1854, we settled here to be with our cousins. I had a good teacher who helped me learn; I enjoy learning and now I enjoy teaching."

Svein smiled at her, "That is good. I am sure you are a fine teacher." Kirsten's cheeks turned red and she diverted her eyes to escape his gaze.

There was a moment of silence before Kirsten noticed that he had finished staking the wood, "You are done already! Thank you."

"Oh, um yes . . . I will come by tomorrow and bring you some more."

"There is no need to trouble yourself Svein, harvest season has but a few more days left and the boys will be back in class. I have enough to get me through until then."

"No, I insist."

"Well, then thank you . . . I do not know how to repay you for your generosity." Again scuffing her boot and looking down as she talking.

"A favor for a new friend." He bowed and then turned towards his cabin, paused for a minute and turned back. "How does it sound as payment, in exchange for English lessons?"

"I guess that seems fair," Kirsten agreed meekly, hoping her heart pounding in her chest would not give her away.

"It is settled then. I will see you tomorrow at the same time." And with that he left. Kirsten let out a slow sigh of contentment and smiled the whole walk back to her house.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day's hours again had a sluggish march. Kirsten was anxious all day; she had never been alone with an unmarried man before. Nor had she ever been around someone who made her forget her wits like the way he made her feel. The butterflies he had caused in that one meeting where far greater than the ones she had on her first day of teaching.

'Kirsten, your face is flushed." Britta commented softly as her sister leaned over to check the slate of the girl sitting next to her. "Are you feeling ill?" there was great concern in her voice and Kirsten felt horrible about making her little sister anxious, but she could not tell her that she was being so silly about a boy. Britta was too young to understand; she should tell Anna, Kirsten resolved. Her cousin was a romantic and would not fault Kirsten.

"I am fine; just a little flustered with lesson plans swarming in my head." She lied to brush her sister off.

Britta smirked and went back to work, but not before muttering, "I hope you are not thinking of too difficult an assignment for us!"

Thinking about her own lie, Kirsten decided to change the morning's plan to something more amusing in hopes that that would cause the day to pass faster. "Change of plans students!" She announced gleefully as all eyes turned at her in a mix of confusion and interest, "we are going to play gliffes to practice dictation!" her announcement brought wide smiles across the room. "Who is first?" Jonas Gunter's hand shot up with such enthusiasm he almost fell out off his perch. Kirsten stifled a giggle and called him to the front of the room as she took her seat.

Jonas' family had been in America for over a generation and, unlike many of the children in the class, English was his first language. He sauntered to the front of the room.

"_Dick drunk drink in a dish; where's the dish Dick drunk drink in_?"

He rattled off in great haste and without error. Some of the students clapped in enthusiasm as he took his seat with a great smile, others looked weary at his boasting.

Many of the following students could not claim the same perfection, but with every tongue twist the class—and the speaker laughed in amusement. Glancing down at her pocket watch, Kirsten was surprised at how much time had passed.

During lunch Kirsten organized a game of wagon wheel, which the children enjoyed with great enthusiasm. She let lunch drag on slightly longer than usual for they were having such fun. When the day finally did draw to an end, the younger students left chattering about how much fun learning is.

Kirsten again assured her siblings that she would be following shortly and with the school finally empty, Kirsten began the tasks of preparing for the next day while waiting for Svein.

"Hello," a deep voice said slowly in English. Kirsten smiled at him, "You have been practicing," she replied in Swedish. "Ja!" he answered with a smile.

Kirsten led him to a bench; is tall frame seemed awkward in the position. "I have not been to school in many years." He confessed.

"That is fine, I have never left." She smiled back at him and he laughed at the joke.

"No it seems you have not. From student to teacher. It is good you have found something you enjoy."

"I do enjoy teaching and we must get to work before we waster the afternoon chatting!" Kirsten tried to sound stern.

"Yes Miss Larson," Svein flirted back at her and he began to sound out the words in the first grade primer.


	5. Chapter 5

"May I go visit with Anna?" Kirsten asked her mother after she finished washing the dinner dishes, "I have not seen her since I started teaching and it is still not too dark out."

Kirsten's mother glanced out the kitchen window at the setting sun, "I am not sure . . .' she began warily.

"Oh, let the child have some fun, Mama, she has worked hard. She should see her cousin." Papa called from the sitting room where he was immersed in a riveting game of chess with Peter.

Mama smiled at her daughter, "Go, I am sure you and Anna have much to talk about."

"Thank you mama!" Kirsten threw her arms around her mother and went to grab her shawl off the peg. After kissing her father good-bye she was off to Aunt Inger's house.

Kirsten went to the barn to get Blackie. "There, there, my beautiful pet." She soothed the startled horse, "we are going to see cousin Anna," she brushed her hand down the steed's shiny coat and nuzzled up to his face, "we have much to tell her about everything."

***

Aunt Inger was surprised to her niece after suppertime, but she welcomed Kirsten in with a loving embrace.

"I came to see Anna, is she home?" Kirsten managed to say while wrapped in her Aunt's tight hug.

"It has been too long, my dear. Come sit and visit for a while and visit. You will see your cousin, she has missed you too, and I will have your uncle drive you home." Aunt Inger ushered Kirsten into the warm kitchen and began warming a pot. "How do you like teaching the school?" she inquired.

"I enjoy it very much." Kirsten took a seat at the large oak table as her aunt bustled about the kitchen.

"Have the students behaved themselves?"

"Yes, they have all been very polite. I have yet to punish someone."

"That is good."

Kirsten heard a rapid clamor of footsteps as Anna raced down the stairs and into the kitchen where she flung her arms around her cousin. "Mama, I hope you are not boring Kirsten. She has come to see me!" Anna had a huge grin on her face and clasped her hands around Kirsten's. "Shall we go talk, then?"

Kirsten smiled a thin smile at her aunt and then followed Anna as she pulled her towards the main room of the house.

"Can we go somewhere a little more private?" Kirsten whispered into Anna ear.

"To the fort!" she declared quietly, "we have not been there in forever. Grabbing their shawls, the girls trekked out into the night air and to their abandoned childhood fort. Sitting down cross-legged, they bent over into a snug position—and one accommodating to their tight quarters.

"What do you have to tell me that could not be said inside the house?" there was a twinkle in Anna's eyes; Kirsten was a quiet one so when she had a secret it was always a good one.

Kirsten took a deep breath before proceeding, "Have you seen the new cabin by the schoolhouse?" she asked.

"No, but when Papa was in town he heard that someone from Sweden had just moved to these parts. But no, no one has come to introduce themselves or ask Papa for help or anything. Most new neighbors stop by and ask for help building a cabin or such. Why do you ask?" there was something in the tone of the question that made Kirsten believe Anna knew what she was going to say next.

"There is this single man who lives there . . ."

"Oooo Kirsten! Is he terribly handsome?" Anna bounced in her seat.

Kirsten lowered her head, trying to hide her blush from Anna. "Yes."

"And . . . ?"

"And . . ." she just smiled. "I do not know!" she sighed in frustration.

"Kirsten Larson! How do you not know? Do you like him? Does he like you?"

"I do not know . . . I mean yes, and I wish so."

"Oooo," Anna shivered, partly from the cool fall air and partly from excitement. "I love new people in town, I was afraid we would run out of things to say about the old ones. But you must tell me everything about this new man from Sweden. How did you meet?"

They sat in their fort as Kirsten retold the tale of how she met Svein and the butterflies even the thought of him caused. Anna loved every minute of the tale.

"Oh Kirsten, I hope he is sweet on you!."

Kirsten just smiled an embarrassed smile. "I hope so too." Then, changing the tone, she announced that her visit must draw to an end, "Enough stories, now we must get back to your house so Uncle Olav can take me home before my parents worry!"


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the week past thus so. Peter and Britta became suspicious of their sister's whereabouts by the end of the week. After everyone had left on Friday they marched to the front of the room and Peter slammed his hands down on the desk. "Where have you been all week Kirsten Larson?! I demand to know!" Britta crossed her arms sternly, "I am your sister and you have never kept secrets from me." Her little face grew red under her golden blond braids, and she pouted with such enthusiasm that her bottom lip jutted out in extreme.

"Ja!" Hans chimed in, not fully understanding what his older siblings were talking about.

But Kirsten shooed them off telling her that teachers do not share all factors of their lives with their students.

"I need a place to plan lessons and prepare and grade papers where my students are not. If you where with me when I was planning a test would it be fair if you knew before the others in the class?" She questioned. It was not a lie; Kirsten did like to plan away from home whenever she could. But she did not feel comfortable telling them yet about Svein. He was not courting her . . . so then there was nothing to tell . . . but she hoped he would. But if did not then she would feel silly getting her hopes up and telling her brother how she was sweet on a boy. Peter would make fun.

As her siblings were questioning her whereabouts, Svein arrived at the schoolhouse, "Ready for my English lesson Miss Larson." He smiled at her and then looked quizzically at the youngsters in the room.

"Aaahhhh I see." Peter said slowly and he picked up Hans and placed him on his hip, "Make sure you are home for dinner_ Miss Larson_, mama would not be pleased." He scowled and walked out of the building. Britta trailed behind with a confused look, "Who is he?" she asked, tugging on her brother's coat.

***

"Are those your siblings?" Svein asked walking up to Kirsten's desk.

"Yes." She replied glumly, getting up and turning her back on him as she cleaned the chalkboard.

Svein placed his hand on her shoulder, "You are upset?" the statement came out more as a question.

"Yes." She stopped wiping the board and bowed her head in shame. "I did not exactly lie to them, but I was not truthful to them about why I was not walking home with them after school. My siblings and I have few secrets from each other."

"I see. And why did you not tell them about me? You have done nothing to be ashamed of." He held her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. Kirsten stared back, not knowing what to say.

"I . . . I . . ." her voice trailed off.

Svein took a deep breath, "I like you Kirsten."


	7. Chapter 7

Kirsten was in shock at his forwardness, she never knew four little words could have such power over her. She stood frozen, staring in disbelief at Svein's declaration. He liked her! There seemed to Svein an awkwardly long silence before Kirsten replied, with her eyes lowered, "I like you too, Svein."

He couldn't believe his good fortune! Picking her up at the waist, Svein spun Kirsten around in a circle before placing her back on the steady ground, but Kirsten's mind was still in orbit. Kissing the top of her golden crown, he asked, "May I call on you?"

Kirsten broke out into a grin and lowered her head as she stubbed her toe against the worn pine planks, "Yes, you may."

"This Sunday? After church?" He was out of breath in boyish excitement and his eyes twinkled like the stars in the winter sky.

Kirsten had to giggle at his childlike enthusiasm, "Yes."

Svein again kissed the top of her head, "I must go, Sunday it is then!" and ran out of the schoolhouse.

Kirsten was left in shock of the whirlwind that was Svein's confession. She stood and stared out the door for a moment and then hugged herself and twirled. She gathered her books and tried to restrain herself from skipping the whole way home like a small child. Approaching the house she saw Mama outside in the garden. She felt that Mama would be able to tell, just by looking at her, that something had happened to make her whole world different.

"How was school today?" Mama called out to greet her.

"Just fine, Mama." Kirsten placed her books on the split-log bench, picked up the empty wicker basket which was sitting there and went to help her mother pick vegetables.

"My Kirsten, we have not had much time to talk these days. I miss my daughter. Tell me about your students, do you like them?"

"Yes, very much so."

"You have been staying late; I hope teaching and your chores will not be too much for you. You are young; you must leave some time for fun."

Kirsten felt the flush that had been plaguing her every time she thought of Svein, "Yes, Mama."

"Is everything alright my dear?" Mama asked in concern, "You are quieter than usual and your face is flushed."

"I am fine Mama, just tired." She kept her head down, focusing on her work.

***

Dinner that night was awkward, Peter kept shooting Kirsten the evil eye and Britta barely talked. If Mama and Papa noticed, they said not. After dinner, Kirsten told her parents she was going to retire early and went up to her room where she fell upon her bed with a smile, thinking of Svein. "I cannot believe he is sweet on me!" she thought to herself. She remembered her older brother Lars courting Anya, a girl he met at the 4th of July festival. Lars was so smitten that he would often stumble on his words when talking to her. Kirsten and Anna would sometimes hide and spy on he two of them together and Kirsten would have to muffle her laughter at how silly her otherwise calm and collected brother would seem. Now Anya and Lars have been married for almost a year and were expecting their first child.

A sharp bang on the door interrupted her thoughts as Peter walked into her room and shut the door behind him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were being courted?" he asked in a loud whisper, accusingly.

"I was not being courted!" she answered sharply, "He wanted English lessons, I was teaching him."

"Then why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because I am a woman I am allowed to have secrets from my brother . . . and besides," her tone became much softer in confession, "I wished he would court me and I knew if I told you, you would make fun—especially if he did not feel the same way."

Peter sat down on the bed next to his sister and put an arm around her shoulders, "I would not have made fun . . . ," Kirsten gave him a look, " . . . much!" there was a devilish grin on his face and Kirsten knew he was no longer mad at her. "And? What is the perspective?"

"You sound like Anna."

"I am just looking out for my sister."

"He asked to call on me on Sunday after church today." Kirsten flushed again.

Peter laughed, "Well, I guess that is a good thing. And I guess I must decide if I like the idea of someone coming to take you away from us—I don't have Lars here to shoo off suitors like he did for Lisbeth!"

Kirsten laughed, remembering when Lars put dirt in the coffee of one of the boys that came to call on Lisbeth—no one seemed to mind went he went storming off spitting dirt, Uncle Olav and Aunt Inger did not like him.

Getting up off the bed, Peter excused himself for the night, before he left he stopped with a thought. Placing a hand on the doorframe Peter looked over his shoulder at his daydreaming sister. He rolled his eyes at her silliness. He had watched two older siblings turn from calm, steady people to bumbling, daydreaming oafs over love. "Kirsten," his voice broke her thoughts, "no more secrets."

She smiled at him, "I'll try."

Peter smiled back and said his good-nights.


	8. Chapter 8

That Sunday morning the sun shone brightly through Kirsten's window and the woods were a brilliant blaze of reds and oranges. Kirsten could hardly contain her excitement. She had told Peter that Svein was going to ask to call on her after church. She braided and re-braided her hair three times before she deemed it perfect and kept brushing imaginary dirt off her dress as the family walked to church. Peter grabbed her hand to stop her fidgeting, "It will be fine," he whispered in her ear and she smiled at him. They approached the meager church at the edge of town and made small talk with some of their friends before taking their place next to Olav's family. Lisbeth and her husband were sitting with them and Lars was sitting with Anya's parents. Hans stood on the bench to wave at them until Mama saw what he was doing and quickly put him back in his place.

Kirsten scanned the small room for Svein, but there was no sign of him. Her heart fell as the music began and the minister took his place at the pulpit. Peter and Anna each took one of her hands and patted it in silent comfort. Kirsten felt crushed; she could not believe he did not show!

The Lutheran minister began to say the blessing in Swedish, but Kirsten could barely pay attention to the service, she felt like a shell of herself, empty on the inside.

The minister had lowered his hands, signaling to everyone to take their seats when the door creaked open and a very embarrassed young man slipped in a took a seat in the back row. Everyone turned to look at the late comer who disrupted their prayer. Kirsten's eyes widened to the size of saucers, Peter chuckled, "Great first impression he is going to make," he muttered under his breath. Anna poked him and gave him a look.

The minister continued the service and it was also Kirsten could do to sit with folded hands and quiet feet. Anna held her hand tightly, as to assure her that everything would work out as it should.

When service was at least over they all convened outside on the lawn. Aunt Inger and Mama went over to greet Lars and pat Anya's expanding belly. The men stood in a circle discussing barn raisings and crops. Kirsten and Anna scanned the yard for Svein. The two locked eyes for a minute, before Kirsten broke his stare as her face started to blush and she had to look away. Anna giggled and dropped her cousin's hand as Svein started to make his way over to their clan. Approaching Mama, Anya, Lisbeth, and Aunt Inger he took off his hat and held it awkwardly in his hands.

The women looked at him in confusion as he seemed to be at a loss for confidence. Anna poked Kirsten in the ribs, "Ouufff," she looked at Anna in confusion and then stepped towards Svein, "Good day Mister Johansson," Kirsten greeted kindly, "Mama, Papa Mister Johansson lives in the cabin next to the schoolhouse."

Taking his cue from Kirsten, Svein loosened his grip on his hat and shook Papa and Uncle Olav's hands, "Svein, pleased to meet you."

"You were late coming to church this morning, Svein." Aunt Inger stated.

Svein was taken aback for a moment, "I have a cow that has a habit of finding herself in places she ought not be. That is how I met Kirsten; she found my cow in her school's wood pile." He explained.

"We have not seen you at church before," Mama had observed.

"I just moved here Aker, I have been getting settled."

Anna, Lisbeth, and Anya tried to hide their giggling. They all knew that Svein was trying to gather the courage to ask to call on Kirsten, but the parents were not going to make it easy for him.

"Aker, eh?" Uncle Olav, implored kindly, "I left Swedish many years ago, you must come over and talk of the old country with us some time, we all miss it."

Svein smiled at Olav's kind invitation and bowed slightly, "It would be my pleasure." He straightened up and looked at Mister Larson, "Sir, I would like to call on Kirsten." His words rang crystal clear. Mama and Aunt Inger gasped, but there were smiles on their faces, the girls and Kirsten's brothers giggled as Papa stroked his graying beard in consideration.

"Yes . . . that does seem alright . . ., Mama?"

Kirsten's mother stepped forward to be besides her husband, placing her hand on his shoulder, "Yes Svein, it would be our pleasure. Would you like to come for supper tonight? It will be a light meal for it is the Lord's day."

Svein bowed again, "That is most generous. I will see you tonight." And he took his leave.

As soon as Svein was out of earshot Papa put his arm around his eldest daughter, "So daughter, it seems you are old enough to be called upon."

Mama looked at Kirsten with a funny little smile. Kirsten felt a great love and relief for Mama who, without being told, could understand all the things that were too hard for Kirsten to stay.


	9. Chapter 9

As was customary, Anya and Lars joined the Larsons for dinner. The meal had been prepared the night before, as Mama did not cook on Sunday. Kirsten and Britta helped Mama set the table. There in the center were the candlesticks they had brought over from Sweden, and the tablecloth Mormor made as a wedding gift for Mama and Papa. Kirsten rubbed the embroidered flowers in between her fingers and was flooded with memories of home.

Papa came up behind her, seeing her lovingly stroke the memories of their life in Sweden. "You were such a little girl when we left, now here you are, a grown woman being courted by a man who was born just a few miles from you. Time passes quickly."

"Papa." Kirsten smiled at her father. Their unspoken exchange was interrupted by a brisk rapt on the door.

"I'll get it!" Britta skipped to open the door as Kirsten straighten her skirt and brushed imaginary wisps of hair behind her ears.

Svein stood in the doorway, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

"Welcome to our home," Mama greeted kindly and led Svein to the dinner table. Papa looked awkward as Mama placed Svein at the head of the table; a place of honor for special guests and Papa's usual chair. Papa slid into the seat next to Svein.

Noticing Kirsten's anxious look, Lars chuckled softly and grabbed Kirsten's arm as she started to walk to the table. "Do not worry sister, I will sit next to Papa and try to keep him in line. Remember, I made it through Siberia with Ayna's family." Kirsten responded with a thankful smile.

However, Lars' kind and understanding nature towards Svein did not ease Kirsten's discomfort during the meal. All through the meal she could barely manage to look up. Every time she did, her eyes caught Svein's and she could feel a warm flush rise on her checks an she immediately looked back down to her lap. Mama warmed to Svein instantly, and even Papa's protective shell began to wear down as Svein spoke of Sweden and his journey to America. The Larson's missed their home country and they hung on every word, no matter how insignificant, trying to get a taste of the land they left. Kirsten's parents also bombarded Svein with questions, monopolizing the conversation throughout dinner that the four Larson children were almost silent at the table. The two youngest because they conversation did no appeal to them and every time Lars and Peter tried to engage Svein they were cut off by their father; Kirsten was drowning in a pool of nervousness.

"Say something!" Anya urged in a forceful whisper, "He has come here for you, not just your parents!"

How could she and Svein have so much to say to each other when they were alone in the schoolhouse? She felt so comfortable around him there that had begun to feel as though she had known him her whole life. Now, sitting at the dinner table surrounded by her family Kirsten had lost her voice and felt awkward.

"Please, make the questioning stop!" Kirsten pleaded silently, and if on command Hans decided that he had enough of being ignored; as the baby of the family, a fate to which he was never subjected to.

Banging his wooden spoon on the table Hans interjected, "Talk to me too!" he cried. Svein chuckled at the impertinent little boy and the horror on Mama's face at her youngest's lack of manners.

Gathering her nerves together, Mama calmly went over to Hans and lifted him out of his chair, saying that it was time for little trolls to go to bed; a punishment for behavior implied in her calm, stern voice.

Kirsten closed her eyes; that was not what she had meant as a way for the questioning to end! Not only had her parents subjected Svein to a line of questioning that was worse than the riksdag, her brother had managed to embarrass her with his lack of decorum. This evening was certainly not going the way she had envisioned it.

"No, Mrs. Larson," Svein stopped her politely, "I came here to have dinner with Kirsten's family and I had not paid due attention to the entirety of the family. I have younger brothers at home," Svein reached for Hans and Mrs. Larson reluctantly passed on her naughty child to him. "I miss them a lot."

Mrs. Larson smiled at him and sat back in her chair. Svein smiled at the child in his lap. "What would you like to talk about?" he asked kindly.

"Do you know stories?" Hans inquired.

"A story is what you want? Well I seem to remember one called Madam Maagimi, would you like to hear it?"

Hans and Britta's faces were full of eager anticipation as Svein's smooth voice began the tale:

The Tale of Madam Maagimi

_Madam Maagimi was a very clever and rich troll woman who once lived in the hill-range not far from the city of Eksjo. She had a very bad temper, so those who angered her, were duly punished._

_  
A poor woman lived in the hills too. Late one evening a knock was heard on her hut door._

_  
"Come in," answered the old woman, wondering who her visitor might be._

_  
"Here is work for you from the mistress of the mountain," a voice said from outside. "I will not come in. Spin beautiful yarn, but do not wet the threads with spittle. The madam will not tolerate that."  
_

_"Where shall I leave the yarn?" asked the trembling woman.  
_

_"Go straight forward into the woods, where you will find a smooth green lawn. Put the yarn there and next day you shall have your pay."  
_

_The old woman began at once to spin the flax that she found outside the cottage door, and took care to wet the thread with water only. The yarn was soon finished and she went into the woods until she came to a beautiful glade encircled by high trees. She there laid down the yarn. Next day she went again to the spot and found a new bundle of flax, and several silver pieces._

_  
Now the woman got silver money enough to call herself rich. However, she also got greedy. At last, she did not follow the troll instructions, but spun the yarn according to general custom, wetting the thread with her spittle._

_  
Later that day she placed the yarn in the glade as many times before. But next day, when she went to the glade to get her reward again, she was not able to find the glade. In the end she went astray, and could not find her way home until a whole day later. There she found, when she sat down to count over her money, that all the silver pieces had been changed into small stones. The old woman died some time after in great poverty and distress._

"The tale tells us to mind what we are told, you must mind your mother young Hans and you will be a rich man." Svein ended the story.

Mrs. Larson's warm smile told Kirsten that she approved of her daughter's choice. Kirsten began to relax a little, the smiles on her family's faces after hearing a Nordic tale let her know that Svein had won them over.

"You are a good story teller," Papa complemented; stories where away of passing down history and values. Being a good storyteller in a village was a high honor.

Svein thanked Mr. Larson, shyly.

"And you make a good Papa too someday." Mama said with a wink to Anya. Kirsten blushed wildly.

"Oh Mama, you are embarrassing the children." Papa said with a smile, he had clearly warmed up to Svein by this point, "Kirsten, you and Svein my go for a short walk before he leaves."

Kirsten perked up, a chance to be alone with Svein! Svein gathered her coat and mittens as he grabbed his own and Kirsten met him in front of the door.

"Not too long, he has to walk home and it is dark," Mama cautioned.

"Yes, Mama," Kirsten obeyed. Svein opened the front door and a blast of cold air rushed into the cozy house, Kirsten shivered with the sudden change in temperature. Svein put his arm around her, "I will have her back in a few minutes Mrs. Larson." Svein called over his shoulder and led Kirsten from the house.

They walked in silence until they were out of ear-shot from the house and prying windows. Svein kept his arm around Kirsten as they walked, until he stopped and pulled her in for a bear hug. Kirsten snuggled against his chest for warmth and breathed in deeply his sent of fresh soap and pine. She smiled contently as all the stress she had bottled up in her chest from the evening's dinner suddenly released.

Placing a mitted finger under her chin to lift it, Svein whispered, "I think that went well." Kirsten's blue eyes sparkled and he brought her lips to hers. Her heart raced as she stood out the cold, dark night, Svein kisses warming her body. Releasing her chin he smiled at her. "May I call on you again?" She smiled wildly at him, "You had better!" With that comment he winked wickedly and playfully swatted her bottom. "You are a wicked girl! You had better go back to your mother before a troll gets you!" he teased. And Kirsten, suddenly feeling very playfully retorted back, "A troll or a tall, blonde Swedish man?"

Svein laughed heartily at her sudden forwardness, the noise broke through the silent night and he pulled her in for one last kiss before leaving for the night.


	10. Chapter 10

Kirsten could not stop smiling; Svein made her fell like it was her birthday every day. He would come to the school and build a fire in the stove before she arrived, walk her home on evening when she was at the school until late, and he would come for Sunday dinner and joke with her brothers and talk farming with her father. Everything seemed perfect.

"I expect everyone to continue working on their lessons over the break," Kirsten called over the noise of the students gathering their possessions to leave, "And I will see you all in two months!" Kirsten felt her face get warm as she smiled when she saw Svein arrive in the doorway. The children giggled as they made their way past him calling out their goodbyes and giddy with the fact they did not have school for the next few weeks.

"Shall we wait for you?" Peter called over his shoulder as Hans tugged his way to the door. Svein scooped down to say 'hello' to Hans and assured Peter that he would have Kirsten safely home before sunset.

As her siblings were walking out, Kirsten heard Britta explain to Hans that there will be no school for a while and Peter interjecting that they would still have school, they lived with the teacher! Kirsten had to giggle as she gathered her books.

"No more school?" Svein looked puzzled.

"There is no school during the harsh winter months. We do not want to risk the children getting lost in the dark or a storm. Classes will resume when the weather gets better—until planting season begins." She explained.

"So I will not be seeing you every day?" Kirsten detected a hint of worry and loneliness in his voice.

"I . . . I had not thought of that . . . she looked down at her feet." Svein put his hand under her chin, "I guess I will just have to come and call on you. And maybe you can come visit me at my house."

Kirsten smiled warmly at his proposal, before picking up on his second comment and then she took a turn for some wickedness, "Me? A young girl in an unmarried man's house? What do you take me for?" she laughed and swatted his nose.

Svein laughed and pulled her in for a bear hug, "Kirsten Larson you remind me of a shiny coin!"

"A coin!" Kirsten pulled back from his embraces, "A coin!"

Svein had a twinkle in his eye as he pulled her back to him, "On one side you are shy and quiet and turn red as rose when I smile at you, and on the other side you become giggly and bold as brass! And," kissing the top of her head, he said quietly, "both sides make me very happy to have come to America."

"I do?" she could feel her heart start to race.

"I do," Svein said softly and his lips brushed lightly over hers.

Kirsten treasured every second of the walk home, she knew that it was to be the last time the two of them would be alone together until school started up again. Svein talk about his childhood winters in Sweden and of snowball fights, ice skating and tobogganing. Kirsten told him of her first St. Lucia's day in America. Approaching the house Svein noticed a red-dyed rope hung between the house and the barn.

"That is for the snow storms," Kirsten explained, "When we have to go between the house and the barn in the snow we keep one hand on the rope at all times so if we lose sight in the falling snow we will not lose our way to shelter."

Svein looked in consideration at the rope for a moment before leading Kirsten inside.


	11. Chapter 11

The next few days passed slowly inside the Larson farmhouse. The winter storms howled through the windows as Kirsten taught Britta how to quilt. Svein came to visit almost every other day and of course on Sunday for dinner. He and Peter whittled tops and Svein taught him the painstaking task of how to make a Russian Matryoshka doll.

"Svein," Mama looked up from her mending one evening and glanced at her husband, "it is your first Christmas here; we would be honored if you celebrated Saint Lucia's Day with us."

Kirsten and Britta were shocked. "Is he going to sleep in the house?" Britta whispered, her eyes growing wide.

"It would be my pleasure." Svein said in surprise.

"You can spend the night in the barn," Papa said sternly.

"You can stay in Peter's room, in Lars' bed," Mama corrected her husband, "He will be with Anya's family that night."

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Larson, for your generosity." Svein knew that staying in the house was a big honor.

After Svein left for the evening, Britta pounced on her parents, "He is staying here? With us? Wait until I tell cousin Anna!" The concept of an unrelated, unmarried man staying in the house was a foreign idea to her.

Two days before the holiday Aunt Inger and Anna came to make Lussekatts for Saint Lucia's. The four women bonded over making the traditional Swedish holiday food. Mama and Aunt Inger told their daughters about preparing for the holidays with their mothers back in Sweden and some of the old traditions that were left behind in the old country.

"It is hard coming to a new place all alone," Aunt Inger said to Mama, "You were lucky to have family here. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for Svein, to be alone in his house with his family so far away."

"It is more difficult around the holidays." Mama said sadly, "I remember my mother spending the day with Kirsten and me and baking. She would tell Kirsten stories of when I was a little girl . . . I miss her . . ."

"He is staying in Lars' bed!" Britta gossiped to Anna and Anna laughed at the prospect.

"Are you going to use a bundling sack?" Anna teased.

Kirsten's annoyance from all the gossip about Svein turned to curiosity about the bundling sack.

"What is a bundling sack?" Kirsten asked as she pounded the dough. Mama also turned to Anna to explain.

"It is an American tradition," Anna began.

"Actually, they practice bundling in Sweden, Anna." Aunt Inger interrupted, "It is common in many cultures, the bible even mentions it."

Anna eyes widened in surprise, Kirsten still looked confused as everyone in the room, except Britta, seemed to know what bundling was except for her.

"Bundling," Anna began again in an exasperated voice, "is when a man is courting a woman and would like to spend the night with her, and for obvious reasons," she giggled and turned slightly red, "there are . . . _things_ to worry about. So the man is sewn into a bag with just his head sticking out to prevent . . . _things_ . . . from happening."

"What things?" Britta questioned and Mama hushed her.

"Then the man and the women can spend the night together." Anna concluded.

"Svein will not be staying with Kirsten." Mama said sternly, "He will be with Peter in Lars' bed." As she rolled out the dough, the tone in her voice signified that that was the end of the conversation about bundling bags.

Anna winked at Kirsten before turning her attention back to her cooking.

***

Svein arrived at the Larson's right before sunset and joined the family in telling stories around the fire. Peter popped corn in the fire for everyone and Mama made hot chocolate. It was before long before Mama sent everyone to bed.

Kirsten lay awake thinking about Svein in the next room. Did he snore? No, she could not hear him through the walls. Was he dreaming of her? She thought about Anna and the bundling sack, what was it like to lie next to a man in bed? These questions and thoughts danced in her head until she fell into a restless sleep.

Then what seemed like minutes later, Kirsten was awaken by Britta jumping into bed with her.

"It is time to get up!" she said with excitement.

Kirsten blinked the sleep out of her eyes and yawned before focusing her eyes and the small bundle of energy bouncing in her bed.

"How did you know to be up so early?" Kirsten asked in exhausted amazement.

"I have been waiting all night!" Britta exclaimed and Kirsten took that to mean her little sister had never quite fallen asleep.

Britta and Kirsten crept downstairs to the large blue painted trunk; the trunk that had carried all of their possessions from Sweden years ago. Quietly lifting the lid they both closed their eyes and smiled as the faint smell of lavender reached their nose. Mormor had put lavender in the trunk and amongst their linens so that when they reached America they would smell like home. Every time Kirsten lifted the trunk she was reminded of her last days with her grandmother in Sweden. Britta carefully lifted out the leafy crown she had made the previous day and the special candles as Kirsten lifted out the red sash and the Christmas tray. Supplies in hand, they went back upstairs where Britta helped Kirsten get ready before returning to the kitchen where they made coffee and put the Lussekatts on the tray. Everything finally ready, Britta helped Kirsten light the candles in the crown and wake everyone for breakfast.

"Saint Lucia invites you to breakfast," Kirsten glowed as she woke her parents and then Peter and Svein. Svein smiled at her, the brightest smile she had ever seen.

The family gathered downstairs where Papa laid a fire and they enjoyed their breakfast. Papa told Svein about the family's first holiday in America and the trouble Kirsten and he had faced when trying to get the painted trunk. Svein spoke of his family and how he celebrated with them, there was a hint of sadness in his voice and Mama reached out to him; she understood how it felt to be away from your mother during the holidays.

The day was filled with feasting on the julbord: there was fish and wild turkey, potatoes and meatballs. The dinner table was filled with laughter and food. Finally it was time for the risgrynsgröt rice pudding and the desserts. Mama poured everyone a heaping portion of the risgrynsgröt, but to Kirsten it seemed like she had given Svein an extra large portion. Peter, Hans and Britta playfully swished their spoons through the rice pudding looking for the single almond hidden in the dish, for it was tradition that the one who found the almond would, according to folk belief, be wed during the coming year. Kirsten quietly looked in her pudding for the almond, but it was to no avail. She hoped that maybe it was in Svein's large helping, but he said not.

At last the feasting ended at the night drew to an end. Svein warmly thanked Mr. And Mrs. Larson for opening their home to him for the holidays. Kirsten walked with Svein to the fence.

"Thank you," he whispered to her.

"For what? I did nothing." Kirsten responded earnestly.

"For making America a home for me."

Kirsten smiled at his warm words and slipped her hand into his. "Tell me," she said turning to look into his eyes, "did you find the almond?"

Svein eyes twinkled. "Wouldn't you like to know." He stated. "Happy Saint Lucia's Day, Kirsten." He said kissing her good-bye.

"Happy Saint Lucia's Day."


	12. Chapter 12

"When is he going to ask your father for your hand?!" Anna exclaimed in exasperation. "What is taking him so long!" She threw her hands up appealingly to God. Kirsten laughed at her cousin's dramatics.

Kirsten placed her coffee down on the table, "You are too impatient, Anna."

"And how can you be so patient? I love weddings!" she said with a twirl.

Kirsten pursed her lips together but the corners of her mouth crept upwards.

Catching the hint of a smile, Anna slammed her hands down on the table and leaned in so her nose was almost touching Kirsten's, "What are you not telling me? I am your favourite cousin!"

Kirsten pulled away and laughed, "Right now you are my nosiest cousin. Were you this bad when Lisbeth was being courted?"

"No, I was far worse." Anna said with a wicked smile.

Kirsten rolled her eyes; the truth was they both teased Lars and Lisbeth when they had met their future spouses. "Well, I should head home before it gets dark." Kirsten finished her coffee and went to get coat.

"Kirsten, all teasing aside, I am really happy for you. Mama, Papa and I all really like Svein."

Kirsten threw her arms around Anna and hugged her tightly, "Thank you."

Walking home Kirsten thought about what Anna had said, she really wanted Svein to ask her to be his, but the thought of marriage was almost frightening to her. Was she ready to leave her parents and start a family of her own? She remembered how scared Lars and Lisbeth were on their wedding days and how happy they were with married life. No, she could not get her hopes up. Svein had never even mentioned the word marriage to her, ever.

Approaching the house she saw her siblings in the midst of a snowball fight with Svein. Kirsten smiled widely at the picture, maybe someday that will be Svein with their children; that was a thought that warmed her heart and soul. Kirsten laughed and scooped down to make a perfect ball and then hurled into the fight.


	13. Chapter 13

Kirsten was fidgety all Thursday; Svein usually came on Wednesdays to visit. The weather was fine during day, it only snowed hard in the early morning; he should have come in the afternoon.

Mama tried to distract her with housework, but finally gave up. "Kirsten, calm down, he may have had housework to do."

"I cannot Mama, I do not know how to explain it, but something does not feel right. Svein is always so . . . _routine_. He comes the same days at the same time, and usually leaves at the same time as well. Haven't you noticed?"

Mama laughed, "No, I cannot say I have, but a women's intuition is a powerful thing. I believe you when you say something does not fell right." Mama looked slightly concerned.

"I think the girl could go for a walk," Papa called from the other room where he was reading, "Clear her head, and give the rest of us some peace and quiet."

Grabbing her coat, scarf, mittens, and the snowshoes, she kissed her father on the cheek, "Thank you Papa."

"Be back before it gets too dark and stay warm." He cautioned before she left.

Even bundled up she still felt the cold wind bite at her. She wrapped her arms around her body and shoved her hands under her armpits trying to hold in her body's warmth. She had made the walk same for years, but it felt longer today. The sense that something was wrong in the pit of her stomach and the bitter cold made the walk near unbearable.

Finally, Kirsten approached the small cabin and knocked on the door. "Svein?" she called, hearing no answer she called his name again. With still no response Kirsten began to look about the property. She did not see any footprints in the freshly fallen snow; she pushed the door open and called for Svein again before stepping inside. Glancing around she noticed the house looked abandoned; it was as cold inside as it was outside, food was uneaten on the table and the bed was not made. She had seen him on just on Monday, where could he have gone since then. Kirsten started to worry and she stepped back outside. Calling his name she began to wander around his property.

"Svein?" she was holding back tears, where could he be?

Breaking through the winter silence she heard a faint moan. "Svein!" she called again anxiously and made her way towards where she thought the sound had come from. Under a dusting of snow she saw the brown tweed of a coat. Rushing towards the colour contrast, she fell to her knees and began digging widely to reveal Svein body lying face down in the snow.

"SVEIN!" Kirsten's heart wrenching cry cut through the air. Grabbing him around the chest she started to pull his dead weight towards the house. His lifeless body did not want to move, but fear and adrenalin fuelled Kirsten's muscles so that she was able to eventually drag his body into the cabin. Pulling him next to the fireplace she her head fell to his chest and she began to sob.

"Please," she pleaded through her sobs. She placed her hand over his heart—she could feel a heart beat! Life was breathed back into her and she rushed to the bed to grab quilts to wrap around him. Running outside she stacked as much wood into her arms as she could carry and began to build a blazing fire to heat the house.

"Wake up, please wake up." She pleaded over and over again as sat rubbing his hands.

Svein's swollen eyes opened slightly for a moment, but he did not wake.

Kirsten removed his soaked jacket and frozen shirt before wrapping him in a blanket she had warmed near the fire. She heated stones and placed them around his feet and his head. The minutes seemed like hours to Kirsten, she did not know what to do. His skin was slightly blue and his pulse was weak; she had never seen anyone with hypothermia this bad . . . at least no one who lived through it.

Kirsten lost all track of time watching Svein; she had forgotten her father's warning of being home before dark. All she could think about was Svein.

"Please don't die," she whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Papa paced the hardwood floor in the brightly lit kitchen. Sundown was over an hour ago and Kirsten still was not home. A mix of worry that something had happened and anger that she may still be at Svein's, consumed him. Why had she let his daughter go to the house of an unmarried man? He trusted her, and he thought he could trust Svein . . . however . . . no, he pushed that thought out of his head.

Standing in the doorway, Peter watched his father's torment. "Papa?" He interrupted his father's pacing, meekly asked, "Should we go look for her?"

Mr. Larson did not say a word, but went to grab his jacket and a lantern off the peg. Peter looked at Mama, sitting pale-faced at the head of the table with her hands folded; she closed her eyes and nodded at him to follow his father.

Winter nights on the prairie are dangerous. Deep snow and lack of reference points can cause an unprepared traveller to get lost easily.

Lifting the lantern high over his head, Mr. Larson called Kirsten's name as loud as he could and then waited a moment for an answer before moving on.

"Why don't we go to Svein's first to start? He can tell us when Kirsten left." Peter suggested.

"Ja," Papa muttered absentmindedly and broke off in grand strides towards the schoolhouse, calling Kirsten's name along the way.

Through the black night they could see the warm blaze through the windows in Svein's cabin. Making their way towards the house, Papa angrily called both Kirsten and Svein's names. He stormed towards the house, his face growing hot with rage.

Sitting silently next to Svein's side, except for the few falters in her chest as she tried to hold back her tears, Kirsten sat as still as a statue. Her quiet vigil was broken by the sound of her name being called through the night. Kirsten left the sick bed to open the door to find her father and brother approaching the house. Upon seeing his daughter's silhouette in the doorway, Papa began to yell, but stopped short when he became close enough to see her red, tear-stained face in the moonlight.

"Kirsten?" his tone soften in concern, "what is wrong my child?"

Kirsten could not manage to answer him but led him into the house and pointed to Svein lying on the floor next to the fire.

Pulling off his mittens, Papa fell to his knees and began to examine the boy.

"What happened?" Peter asked solemnly as he entered the cabin.

"I found him lying outside, about twenty feet from the house." She said in a hoarse voice and Peter put his arm around her in comfort.

"He must have lost his way between the barn and the house during yesterday morning's storm." Papa shook his head, "it is a miracle he is still alive." Papa continued to check Svein's fingertips and toes to check for discoloration.

"I have been warming blankets and wrapping him in them to raise his body temperature." Kirsten said softly, kneeling down next to her father.

Papa smiled a sad smile at her and placed his hand on her shoulder, "You have done well my child. I am sorry."

Kirsten took Svein's cold, limp hand in hers and her eyes focused on the slow rising of his chest. Her eyes welled with tears, "Please save him Papa," she whispered.


	15. Chapter 15

Papa stayed up with Svein all night, re-wrapping him in warm blankets to get his body temperature up. Kirsten stayed by his side, refusing to leave Svein's side, holding his hand and rubbing his expenditures to help the blood circulation.

At dawn Papa sent Peter home to assure Mrs. Larson that they were safe and to inform her of Svein's condition. Mrs. Larson had spent a sleep-less night in the house worrying about her family's safety. Her relief was short-lived when she heard Peter's news and quickly packed a bag of remedies before setting off to Svein's cabin.

Mama arrived at the cabin to see her husband and Kirsten still keeping vigil over Svein. Kirsten's eyes were red and she looked exhausted, but she was unwavering in her determination to stay by Svein's side. Papa rose and spoke quietly to his wife in a corner. She kept looking over his shoulder at her daughter; her heart ached to see Kirsten in so much pain.

"Kirsten," she said softly, "you should get some rest." Kirsten ignored her comment and continued to focus on Svein, rubbing his chest. Mama placed her hand gently on top of Kirsten's and held in tight. "Kirsten." Kirsten lifted her eyes from Svein and looked into her mother's. She sat staring at her for a minute before she burst into tears and collapsed into her mother's arms.

"Shhh, ssshhh there, there my child." She sat holding her child and let Kirsten cry her tears as she rubbed her back. Finally, Kirsten's sobbed began to subside and she reached the point of exhaustion. Papa wrapped his arms around her and carried her to the bed as he had when she was a small child. Papa smiled a sad smile at her asleep on the bed before he shut the door. He eye's met his wife's; they did not think Svein would wake up from this.

***

The Larsons kept watch over Svein as Kirsten rested. His body went from below normal to burning hot.

"He is burning up," Mrs. Larson withdrew her hand from Svein's forehead and blotted his head with a cool cloth.

"His feet are freezing," Mr. Larson responded, holding one of Svein's feet in his lap. Mrs. Larson reached down and felt Svein's ice cold feet, "We have to draw the fever down from his head." She told her husband and Mr. Larson started rubbing Svein's feet.

"Should I go get the doctor?" Peter spoke up from the table where he had been reading quietly.

"Yes—but dress warmly!" Mama ordered.

They tried to draw the fever from his head by placing cool compresses on his head and keeping his feet warm by rubbing them and warming blankets until the doctor came.


	16. Chapter 16

The doctor gave the Larsons aspirin for Svein's fever, but besides that he could do little more than what they were already doing. Svein had not awoken in almost three days, and in that time Kirsten barely left his side. She kept placing cool compresses on his head and damping his cracked lips with the corner of a wet cloth. She was near exhaustion, but could not leave his side for fear that he would slip away.

"Please child, you need to get your rest." The doctor urged, "You do not want to fall prey to illness, you must sleep."

"Please Kirsten," her parents pleaded, but she stayed her course and kept her quiet vigil. Her eyes burned with tears and from staying awake for so long, her skin grew pale as the pink roses faded from her cheeks. She could not eat, she could not sleep, all she could do was watch and pray.

On the fourth day or her watch, Kirsten's body succumbed to exhaustion, her parents woke to find her peacefully sleeping, bent over with Svein's chest as her pillow. Papa gently gathered his daughter in his arms and cradled her like he had done many, many years ago. She barely stirred when he lifted her up and carried her to Svein's bedroom, "My wish for you has always been to know great love, I never wanted you ever to experience great heartache." He whispered before kissing the top of her golden head and placing her gently on the bed and closing the bedroom door.

Mama nursed Svein as Kirsten slept; she warmed his feet and cooled his brow trying to reduce the fever. Where he had been so peacefully before, Svein suddenly became fretful under the weight of all the blankets, he let out a hoarse moan as he trashed about.

"I think the fever is breaking," Mama announced hopefully to her husband who was reading at the table; her hand artfully checked Svein's forehead and behind the ears for heat. "He needs water!" and Papa rushed outside with the wooden pail to collect snow to melt before the fire.

A few minutes later Papa knelt down beside his wife with the pail of fresh water. She began to ladle water slowing into Svein's parted lips. The cool water quieted his nerves and he became peaceful once more, this time though, his eyes began to open for the first time in days.

"Gdzie? Co?" he said in a horse whisper. Trying to sit up, his body gave way for it was too weak and he fell back on the mat.

"Shh, you where lost in the snow and have been sick from the cold. Kirsten found you, you will be alright now." Mama said with a comforting smile as she brushed the sweaty blond bangs back from his eyes.

"You are strong, but now you need food!" Papa got up and grabbed a slice of soft bread from his lunch and knelt down to hand it Svein.

Svein cautiously nibbled the bit of bread, his jaw aching from lack of use and exhaustion. "More," he asked when he had finally finished and Papa laughed a hearty laugh, "I am glad this boy still has an appetite!"

Papa's laughter disrupted Kirsten's sleep. For a moment she was disoriented, having forgotten where she was, but then like a wave it hit her and she remembered Svein lying ill next to the fireplace, her parents moving into his house and taking care of him for almost a week. With both hands she pushed her bangs and straggling hair back from her eyes and got out of bed. Opening the bedroom door she found the most glorious sight: Svein propped up against her father's knee and her mother feeding him bread and water.

Kirsten's eyes welled with tears and she rushed over to Svein and fell to her knees with her head in his lap.

"Hush now, it is all right, I am fine," Svein soothed as he patted her hair. Mama and Papa smiled knowingly and quietly took their leave.

"I was so afraid," Kirsten's voice shook as she spoke.

"Afraid? Of what?" Svein inquired with a small smile as he continued to stroke her hair.

"That you would die and leave me.

Kissing the top of her head with a smile, "and that would matter to you, my not being here?" He inquired once more.

Muffled the blankets in his lap, Kirsten confessed that she never wanted to ever experience life without him again.

Svein's smile grew broader and larger as he lifted Kirsten's chin so he could look into to her flooded blue eyes. Using his thumb he wiped away her tears, "You don't need to worry my Kirsten, I never plan on leaving you again." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards his chest where she could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I had always thought I would have some romantic elaborate plan, but I think that maybe it is the simple, quiet times where we realize our love the most. When you realize how fragile love is and how much one person can mean to you . . ."

Kirsten lifted her head off Svein's chest, in a blissful, but confused state over Svein's sudden revelation.

Svein cupped Kirsten's chin with both hands and kissed her parted lips lightly before taking her left hand and his, "Kirsten Larson, I did not know what love was until I found you. I did not ever believe that America could ever be my home, but just a place I lived until I met you. You have made this place my home, for wherever you are, that is where I want to be my home. Kirsten, will you do me the honour of having me for your husband?"

Kirsten's eyes grew wide as saucers and the color which had left her checks so many days ago finally came back, "Yes!" she said loudly and then again more softly as she closed her eyes and leaned for a kiss, "Yes."

The End


End file.
